Heliotrope
by Annamonk
Summary: Hermione falls in love with a muggle. Harry is being stalked by Narcissa. Ron thinks he has a chance to win Hermione back. Nothing is exactly as it seems. It's not my garden, but I love making flower crowns.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione Granger smiled and danced around the laboratory as her master rolled his eyes. The potion she had developed worked. It was unique. She hadn't used a previous potion as a base. Her future was at hand.

"It will have to be tested on a larger scale, but it proved effective on every patient in the last month." The older wizard grinned at her. "You have done well, Hermione. Though you are still lamentably bubbly in nature."

She threw herself into his arms and giggled. He'd used her first name. She knew what that meant.

"Do try to develop some decorum. Severus never hugged me." Her master smirked down at her. "A Master has standards. You have earned your place amongst us, but you need to make sure the world respects it."

"Yes, Claude." She pulled back from him and bounced on her heels. He didn't correct her use of his first name. Her master recognized her as an equal.

"Go be insufferable with your muggle." Claude Martel smiled at her. "Yes, I know you've been carrying on with some poor man that has no hope of ever understanding you. Better a muggle than that red headed buffoon that still sniffs around from time to time. That one is stupid and annoying."

"Ronald doesn't understand anyone that truly loves learning." Hermione laughed and grabbed her satchel. "But you won't have to put up with him much longer. I'm destined to see him every so often for the rest of my life."

"The muggle makes you smile. It's a shame that you can not bring him to meet me." He held up his hand. "I'm too old and set in my ways to pretend for a man that has no magic."

Hermione sighed. The war had changed many things, but Claude Martel was not one of them. She blew the man a kiss and laughed as he recoiled.

"I shall go play with my muggle." She swung open the door and let the warm sunlight into the room. "I'll start brewing the potion for the next phase tomorrow."

"Begone with you." Claude smiled and shooed her away with his hands. "Be young and careless for a while."

Hermione launched herself out into the fresh air and headed away from the tiny magical quarter of Lourmarin. It didn't take long to leave the eight buildings and five shops behind. There were other cities nearby with larger and more vibrant neighborhoods. Most of the younger magicals headed to those cities. It was easier for them, but Hermione was comfortable in the muggle world. Electricity did frighten her. Televisions did not startle her. Telephones mostly annoyed her because her magic destroyed the bloody things in a matter of hours.

She walked past a building and grinned as the sounds of a television program filled the air. Being in the muggle world was comforting to her. It kept her memories of childhood and her loving home bright and shiny in her memory.

The only thing that had frightened her was the man she was rushing to see. She'd seen him from a distance and been convinced he was Lucius Malfoy under a glamour. The resemblance was uncanny, but Ambert Sheridan was a muggle. His dark hair and shinning blue eyes were quite different from the elder Malfoy's. He also tended to have sun bronzed skin from spending most of his days excavating Roman ruins nearby. She smirked up at the blue sky and imagined how horribly burned the sunlight would leave a Malfoy. They said everyone had a twin somewhere, and she was thrilled to have found Lucius Malfoy's. He was kind and intelligent. He loved to touch her. His fingers would trail over her skin whenever they were together. When he forgot to shave for a few days, he would rub his whiskers along her skin like a cat and make her giggle. There was always some kind of pastry for breakfast, and he made the very best coffee. He didn't fuss if she was tired when she stumbled into his place. He didn't moan if she was busy for days on end. He was almost perfect.

Hermione hated herself for caring that he was a muggle. She loved him, but she never said the words because she knew the time would come. She would leave him. He was already significantly older than she was. She would still be young by wizarding standards when he was doddering about in his garden and talking about the affair he had while he lived in France.

Her steps slowed and some of the bounce left her. The war had taught her how to accept joy where she found it. Every day was precious. She owed it to those that hadn't made it to truly live her life. Ambert was a blessing and considering leaving him was gut wrenching.

She ducked into a small bakery and bought some fresh bread. She let mundane thoughts drive away the darker ones. Ambert was in her life. She took a deep breath and let the joy of that fill her again.

A few more stops and a bouquet of heliotrope in her hand, she pushed open the door to his place and laughed out a greeting. She heard his voice from somewhere further in and felt the last bit of tension flow out of her. Heading for the kitchen, she started humming a nocturne by Chopin.

* * *

Harry Potter frowned at the duty roster posted next to the door. Ron had managed to get himself sent to France again. He wasn't getting the message that things were well and truly over between him and Hermione.

He sighed and looked down at the files in his hands. He didn't have time to trade or he'd go himself. At least he stood a chance of returning home without being hexed. Ron surely didn't.

He put his papers into the tray by the door and watched as they disappeared. He knew they would be resting in Robards' office for the man's perusal in the morning.

He didn't want to go home, but his work was done. Ginny was on the road with the team, so Ron would be there. There was no avoiding him.

"Everything alright there, Harry?" Neville set his own folders in the tray. "You look like a man headed to his own funeral."

"Just another night with Ron." Harry shrugged. "It's been four years since Hermione broke it off, but he won't stop trading his hours so he can go see her."

"I thought he'd leave her alone after his last visit." The taller wizard sighed. "How long did the unspeakables work to lift the hexes off him?"

"Three days and six hours." Harry rolled his eyes. "They've been trying to recruit her ever since."

"So, more stalkers." Neville grinned. "She must be so happy."

"I don't know how to get through to him. She's told him, I've told him, George told him with bloody fireworks, but he won't give up." Harry sighed as they walked toward the lifts together. "He's built up this fantasy that Hermione will come home and settle down like Molly. It's insane."

"Maybe a healer could help?" Neville frowned as they stepped onto the lifts. "Talk to Arthur and Molly. They've got the best chance of actually getting through to him. He was conditioned to listen to them at one time."

"Or I could ignore everything. Hermione's creativity is adding to the arsenal of spells we have at our disposal." Harry smirked as the lift doors slid open. "Think of all the things we will be able to do."

"It's all fun and games until her wand is pointed at you." Neville shoved his shoulder as the pair stepped onto the lift and let the topics turn to more mundane things.

* * *

Ambert stroked his fingers up her spine and freed the sweat dampened curls still stuck to the back of her neck. He knew she was asleep. The soft snore and the slightly open mouth gave her away every time.

They'd had a wonderful meal and a nice bottle of wine. It wasn't an odd night for them. She'd brought him flowers again. Always heliotrope. Glancing over at the bouquet shoved into another of his drinking glasses, he smiled.

It was part of her charm, her determination to woo him still strong after three years. She knew he didn't have a vase to his name. If he did, it sure as hell wouldn't have flowers in it. He spent his time poking around in the past. The Roman ruins in these parts still held a secret or two. He wasn't out to save the world, but she didn't care.

There had been a few throw away comments about heroes and those that wished they were through the years. He knew enough to know she didn't really want to talk about it. Some things were best left to the imagination.

After three years he should know more about her than he did. They talked about so many things, but never their pasts. Their relationship had stumbled along in its own odd way. He'd spent the first year trying to convince her he was too old for anything more than friendship and conversation and the second year discovering that his sex drive wasn't as atrophied as he had assumed. This last year had been as close to domestic bliss as he had ever come.

Hermione spent more nights with him than not. She always arrived with music and chaos in her wake. She would kick off her shoes and dance barefoot in the kitchen while cooked. She'd filled his cabinets with spices and pots and pans. Not every meal was a gastronomic adventure. Simple food suited them both.

She would be horrified if he confessed to eating sandwiches over the sink when she wasn't about. There would be a lecture with statistics from the latest medical journals.

He loved it when she lectured him. She'd pace and emphasize every word with wild gestures that used her whole arms. Her passions were always there, right under the surface.

Tonight she'd arrived with flowers and food that led to conversation and other distractions. She didn't mind the fact that he didn't have a television. His site notes and odd sketches never bothered her.

He traced the edge of an odd scar on her back. She had quite a few rather terrifying scars for one so young. He sighed. He had his own. The burn on his arm that left his skin mottled and unattractive had never bothered her. She'd spent hours tracing her fingers over the warped skin when they first started seeing each other. He'd found the gentleness of it comforting.

She didn't sleep well. He'd lived through more than a few of her nightmares as she thrashed and whimpered. Something in her past had damaged her beyond the physical record of her scars, and he hated it. Hated more, he supposed, that he couldn't fix it.

Not that she needed fixing. She'd smack his shoulder and glare at him if he even suggested it. Such a fierce little thing.

He knew their time was coming to a close. Her research was done. She didn't need to hide away from the world to focus on it anymore.

He frowned and leaned back against the pillows. He'd had other lovers, but he'd spent the last three years with Hermione. He'd gotten attached. Hell, he'd fallen in love with her, but he wasn't one for dramatic revelations.

"Stop thinking so loud." She flipped her hair back and glared at him. "Talk about it."

"You're leaving soon." He wound a stray curl around his finger. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'm not." She shook her head into the pillow. "There are trials..."

He stopped her rambling words by pressing a finger to her lower lip. He didn't want to listen to her timelines and her plans. There time was finite. They both knew it.

"I'll never know what drew you to a broken down, old man like me." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the skin riding her clavicle. He ignored the white line at her throat and trailed his tongue up to her jaw before pulling back and staring into her eyes. "But I am grateful for it."

"Any woman would want you." She tilted her neck back and bared her throat to his tender mercies.

"It only matters that you do." He stroked a hand down from her shoulder to her hip and pulled her flush with his body. Perhaps he wasn't ready to be put out to pasture just yet.

* * *

"I want to be free." Narcissa Malfoy growled and fisted her hands next to her skirts. Draco watched his mother pace back and forth. Her agitation has been growing over the last few weeks.

"I approached the Ministry, Mother." Draco sighed. "No visitors are allowed."

"I've visited him in Azkaban before. Our solicitors have gone as well." She swirled about and changed direction. "An auror could take the papers for him to sign."

"Father agreed to these conditions to shorten his time away from the family." Draco didn't bother to remind her that she'd encouraged him. "I know this is inconvenient, but it doesn't change anything."

"Our vows weren't modern, Draco." His mother collapsed into the chair across from his. "If your father signs those papers, I'm free. If he doesn't I won't have any choices. He will put reputation ahead of happiness. He always has."

"You don't know that." Draco sighed. He was sick of her dramatics. "Beyond that, you said you would wait for him."

"I want a life of my own." She clenched her fists in her lap. "I married him right out of Hogwarts. The last few years have opened my eyes. Is it so wrong to trod my own path?"

"No." Draco rolled his eyes. "In two years, he will sign the papers. He won't force you to stay."

"I'll just have to ask Potter." She stood up and resumed pacing. "He will help me."

* * *

Hermione woke up in the protective curve of her lover's body. One arm was draped over her waist. She eased back against his chest and smiled at the blue light filtering in through the curtains. This was bliss. She felt his chest expand with each breath, even and steady. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the security of the moment.

"I love you." She whispered the words and snuggled back into his warmth. It felt good to say it.

"I love you, too." He dropped a kiss against the shell of her ear. "For a while now."

She rolled over and looked into his blue eyes. Peace poured off of him. He was at ease with the world and it showed in everything he did.

"I thought saying it would make it harder." She dropped her gaze to his chin.

"Love isn't a promise of forever." He curled a finger under her chin and tipped her gaze back up to his. "It's a gift. Will you love me less when you go?"

She felt the moisture rising in her eyes as she shook her head.

"You asked about my tattoos when we were first together. The runic circles going down my spine were a drunken mistake. I transcribed the design from a chamber we found in Norway, but I did it wrong and wound up with meaningless circles. Lousy story, too." He shrugged. "But I decided to get another. I've drawn it again and again for months. I'm going to put it on my shoulder where I can always see it."

He plucked a drawing up from his bedside table and handed it to her. She looked down at the drawing and saw a figure eight composed of heliotrope. Her fingers tightened on the page.

"Eternity." Her own voice sounded far away.

"Eternal love." He stroked his fingers along the side of her face. "I will love you wherever you are. If I tried to hold you here, it would crush you. I'm far too old to bind you up with promises. All I can give you is this."

"Eternal love?" Hermione pressed her hand to the warm skin over his heart. "That's not a little thing."

"Simple though." He leaned forward and kissed her gently. She felt her magic rising up and knew that something in his gift was calling on her to answer it.

"Let's both do it." She stroked his shoulder with the tips of her fingers. "Let's Go this weekend and do it."

"You want this? You're sure?"

She smiled at him and nodded. Early magic users had used tattoos to enhance healing. Spells could be set into a body with the ink. It was simple enough in theory. She looked back down at his drawing and knew she would be able to infuse it with her love. Some part of her would always be with him.

"I want this." She reached over him and set the drawing back where it had been. "We will both have this."

* * *

"She keeps showing up. Being stalked by Narcissa Malfoy isn't as much fun as one might think." Harry looked at Gawain Robards and frowned. "I owe her a bloody life debt, but this is all so out of the blue."

"Damn." Robards leaned back in his seat. "Too many of our people are compromised by the bloody things after the war. She'll know the old rites. You could be made very uncomfortable."

"She's a member of House Black. Is there anyway to use that to control her?" Harry rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand and felt the cool slide of his wedding ring against his skin.

"The chair is still in the Wizengamot chamber. Do you know the current head of House?" Robards frowned. "Can't remember ever meeting him."

"Could it be Draco Malfoy?" Harry started to pace.

"No. Lupin's boy is out, too. You can only guard one House." The older wizard took a deep breath. "Did Sirius Black name a specific individual in his will?"

"Dumbledore was the only one to read it." Harry stopped in the middle of the room. "I never saw it, never actually confirmed anything that Dumbledore said."

"Dumbledore's damnable irregularities. The man was a bloody menace. We should notify archives and pull Black's will." Robards rolled his eyes and reached for a quill.

"Have the improper use of muggle artifacts desk send the request." Harry looked around the room and took a deep breath. "Also have them pull the documents for Regulus Black, Orion Black, and Walburga Black. Tell them we're hunting a dangerously cursed necklace that was traced to the House. It will get a quicker response, and I'm sure we can fins ten in the attic."

"Opening a fake case to help you dispose of some cursed jewelry?" Robards chuckled and ran his hand down the side of his long face. "Good thinking, Potter."

"Very amusing, Sir." Potter smiled. "What could make Narcissa Malfoy risk her position in society? It's two years, and all of her reasons ring a bit hollow. None of the pieces fit together quite right."

"Always hated puzzles." The head auror took a deep breath and pulled a bottle of fire whiskey and two glasses from a drawer. "Something tells me I'm going to need more of this soon."

* * *

Hermione rubbed a healing balm over Ambert's shoulder. He hadn't minded switching to her supposed antibiotic ointment to treat their tattoos. She grinned as he passed her the bandage at the right moment. He didn't realize that he would be completely healed well before he quit wearing the bandage. The balm was already working on the deeper damage. She flopped down on the bed next to him and grinned.

"Tattoos are a kind of magic." He traced the edges of her bandage. "A lot of ancient cultures used them, and we still use them today. Marking ourselves for protection, declaration, or decoration. It's all a way of linking yourself into something larger."

"I suppose it is." Hermione stroked her fingers along his forearm. It was an odd sensation to feel the tingle magic under his skin. "I have linked myself to you forever."

"And it's magical." He bent down and pressed a kiss just over her heart.

She groaned as he pushed her linen shirt aside with his chin and continued kissing her upon some path of his own devising. She was fairly certain it was a path to madness for her as he scraped her skin lightly with his teeth. She moaned and gripped the hand closest to her.

Her clothing slid from her body as his mouth worked over her skin. Teeth, lips, and tongue, glorious, clever tongue, pushed her over into ecstasy again and again until she was staring up into his blue eyes as he joined her. She felt the magic flow between them, and arched off the bed.

Thunder and the splash of rain against stone and glass filled the room with sound. The fingers on both their hands laced as he thrust just that bit further. He held his weight on his elbows to protect her as she writhed beneath him. He was her anchor, her safe harbor.

"I need you, Hermione." He kissed her chin and tilted her head until their gazed met again. "I love you. Always."

She saw a flash of lightning reflected in his eyes and shuddered around him as the both tumbled into bliss.

"Love." She pressed her open mouth against his throat and licked at the salty moisture there. "Always. Yours. Always."

* * *

 _ **Author's Note**_

 _Okay, I didn't mean to do it. I've been working on The Girl With The Blue Lotus Tattoo and Into The Fire. I still am, but this came along and my muse liked it better._

 _She's fickle and really likes Jason Isaacs. Really, can you blame her?_

 _Blame me. I'm a bad author. I'm so bad._

 _At least you know the others are coming?_

 _Please, don't hate me. Pretty, pretty please?_

 _-Anna_


	2. Chapter 2

"You need to go." Claude stirred the brew five times anti clockwise and removed the spurtle smoothly. "That monster infected an entire village of children. Your potion is their best chance."

"It hasn't been approved for use on children. It's still in trials." Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes. "How did he manage to infect so many in a single night?"

"Apparently, it is a custom of the village to have the children greet the dawn with song to commemorate some battle from a thousand years ago. Greyback must have heard tell of it." Claude crossed the room and took her hand. She liked to be touched and coddled. He sighed. "There are thirty two children that might never know the change if your potion works. You can not take the horror of this night from them, but you are their best chance for any kind of normalcy. The Italian Ministry and the ICW have asked you to help, so you must."

"So, a month in Italy." Hermione sighed. "I can handle that, but what about the trials?"

"I will brew your potion, so that they might continue as scheduled. It would be best if I proved it can be replicated by someone other than you in any case." He released her hand and resisted the urge to clean it immediately. Severus had warned him of her tender heart in his letter. He saw no need to hurt the girl. "Eat the food, enjoy the sights, but do not watch those fools play quidditch. They are horrible. Every last one of them."

He watched as she nodded. She was quite talented. Severus had been right about that. She was amusing and witty. He liked her quite a lot.

"Go tell your man that you must travel." He shooed her off. "Spend some time with him. I am sure he is quite a bit younger than I am and likely to miss you for more than I."

She was out the door with a muttered apology and a sweet smile. Severus had never found love, not the all consuming and returned affection he deserved. It was possible the man would have been just as insufferable as Hermione if he had.

Claude didn't care for people. Potions made sense. There was a serenity he found only when brewing. He loved good quidditch, but that was hard to find. Potions, however, never disappointed him.

He'd never found a person to inspire him to change or adapt. He'd made Severus his heir when the wizard had been elevated to Master status. Losing him had been a shock, but the clever boy had found him a replacement in Hermione. She was brilliant, incandescent in intellect. She reminded him of Gellert when they'd been at Durmstrang together. Ideals and talent wrapped up in an appealing wrapper. Of course, she wasn't determined to destroy herself or the world whichever melts away first. That was a good thing for the most part. Though he did miss living without having to worry about the emotions of butterflies and cats.

For all her devotion to the betterment of the world, she was his now. He'd filed his new will with the French Ministry this very week. Hermione would inherit both his estate and Severus'. Severus had been very clear that she had to have the sense to follow his advice or his estate would have been dispersed to charitable causes.

It made her quite the heiress, but he was fairly certain no wizard would ever woo her. His brightly irritating flower had set her heart on a muggle.

The world had changed while he was stirring up potions. He looked out the window for a moment and caught sight of her at the end of the street. She was clutching some purple flowers in her hand and waving at his neighbors. He let himself smile. Perhaps she was infectious.

* * *

"Mother, you need to tell me what you're up to right now." Draco sighed and watched as she paced through her private salon. "I've been visited by Shacklebolt and Potter. They know more about your wedding vows and the bond you share with father than I do."

"Your father is in trouble." She sat down on the ice blue damask covered settee. "I can't accuse the Ministry of doing something horrible to him. I can't risk all our futures like that. Pardons can be revoked."

"So, you thought asking for a divorce would seem like a legitimate reason to see him." Draco took a deep breath. Yelling at her would do no good. "Father agreed to no visitation for a shorter sentence. It was a good deal."

"He's not in Azkaban." His mother shoved her sleeve up her arm and displayed the twisting runes on it. "I'm not sure where he is, but it isn't there. The runes are fighting to keep us connected. They were dull and lifeless at first, but things started to change. I'd know he was in pain for a moment, sometimes longer. There are occasional moments of contentment and happiness. None of that should be happening."

"I don't remember the runes being twisted before." Draco reached out and touched one of the delicate marks. His mother stiffened, and his own magic flared uncomfortably. "What could cause this?"

"I have no idea, my dragon. Something is interfering with the bond I share with your father. That bastard Riddle never managed to do this much damage." His mother sighed and let her sleeve slide down, pushing his hand away. "I think Lucius is in danger."

* * *

Ambert smiled as Hermione whirled into the apartment and handed him a small bunch of flowers. He felt the dampness of the stems in his hand and glanced down at the small purple blooms. The loud crash of Hermione's bag on the floor pulled his attention back back to her. Being around her energy was usually comforting, but there was something in her rapid movements that reminded him of a coming storm. She seemed frantic. He trailed the fingers of his free hand down the side of her face and waited for her to take a breath.

"What brings you home so early, my love?" He bent his head and met her lips for a gentle kiss. He felt her breath flash across his skin as she dropped back on her heels and quirked a brow to emphasize his question.

"My medicine is being used in an emergency situation. I have to go to Italy tonight. I need to be there. Without proper testing, I'm the only one with enough knowledge to make adjustments if they are needed." She pressed her hand against his chest. "I have an hour. I wanted to see you before I left. Sending you a note wasn't enough."

He nodded and set the flowers on the table beside his hip. Pulling her close, he lifted her up and carried her into their bedroom. Their bed was still rumpled and welcoming as he spilled them both back onto it.

"I'll be back. I'm not leaving forever." She gasped against his shoulder as he shoved her skirt up to her waist. He let his fingers swirl along the skin of her inner thighs, drawing her attention away from her upcoming trip. "It shouldn't take more than a month."

"I know you're coming back to me. In the grand scheme of things, a month isn't very much time at all." He nipped her shoulder and reveled in her shuddering response. "But I'm not passing up a chance to love you thoroughly before you go."

Pulling her shirt and skirt off over her head, he pushed back to admire the flush of passion on her creamy skin. She seemed to glow against the navy cotton sheets. He dipped his head and traced skin at the lace edge of her bra with his tongue.

"I love you." She stroked her hand over his head and whimpered when he bit down lightly on her nipple through the delicate lace. He reveled in the small sounds escaping from her as he removed the delightful garment from her delectable self.

"I love you, too." He pressed his lips to her neck and felt the throb of her pulse against them. "I love your giant heart, your wonderful mind, your passionate soul."

She bit his shoulder and he knew she wasn't paying attention to his words. He hummed as he slid his open mouth along her clavicle and down her sweat slicked skin to the peak of her breast. He glanced over to the tattoo on her skin and traced his fingers along each delicate purple flower and each leaf and vine as he imagined the future he wanted for them. The pad of his index finger heated as he traced the floral figure eight on her shoulder again and again. Images of Hermione laughing at him as he tried to tame her wild hair with a braid gave over to quiet moments of them reading on a blanket in the sunshine. He tried to push his mind back into the moment, but the image of her rounded with their child stilled his hand. He pressed it flat against her marked shoulder and yanked the last barrier between them down her legs with his other hand.

"Tell me you want this." He waited for her to focus her eyes on his. "Tell me you want all of it."

"I do." She panted and squirmed as she tried to force their bodies together, but he moves to keep them apart.

"Tell me what you want, Hermione." Ambert felt her fingers digging into to his skin, the prick of her nails scraping at him.

"I want you. I want all of you. I want you in me and with me always." She arched up under him. "I want it."

He pushed into her and lost those fleeting images to the enjoyment of the present. Hermione slid her legs up along his and settled them along his flank allowing him to push them further into mindless ecstasy. He heard his name falling from her lips again and again as he shifted their bodies on the bed. She grabbed at his back and he felt her quake against him as she gathered for the plunge into satisfaction. He pressed his forehead against hers and let himself go. He felt her jolt and stiffen before she softened against him. Lost in the pleasure of the moment, he pulled her with him as he tumbled to the side. She slid further down him as she sprawled bonelessly over his body.

"I'm going to miss you so much." She mumbled against his chest. "How am I supposed to survive a month without you?"

He chuckled and kissed the riot of curls on the top of her head. He wanted so much more than matching tattoos. He wanted that imaginary future. The ring hidden under the bed wasn't going to wait for him to come up with some stupidly romantic gesture. He wrapped his arms around her and considered the bleakness of thirty days alone.

* * *

"The Department of Mysteries is trying to unseal Sirius' will. Whatever Dumbledore did to it is proving quite the challenge." Gawain looked at Harry. "I'm sending you up to Scotland to check the protections at Hogwarts. That should give you a bit of breathing room from Narcissa Malfoy."

"Hopefully, the unspeakables will figure it out quickly." Harry ran his hand through his hair. "I can't dodge her for the next two years."

"If they can't get it open, I'll go to Shacklebolt and see if we can shorten Malfoy's sentence from seven years to five." Robards sighed. "Whatever that witch is after, let her husband deal with it."

Young Potter nodded.

"We need to make a list of all life debts owed and owing by members of our department. We can't afford to have compromised aurors out in the field without knowing it, and it will be years before we can clean house." Robards pushes back from his desk. "There aren't enough of us as it is."

"People want to forget about the war and the violence. Most of them are happy enough to see us, but joining up is another matter." Harry shrugged. "Give it time, Sir."

* * *

Hermione sighed as she grabbed a couple of things from the wardrobe. She was already packed, but Ambert might wonder why she didn't take anything with her if she didn't pick a few items. She needed to get back to Claude's for the port key, but leaving Ambert felt wrong.

"It's a month." Ambert smiled at her from the bed. "You'll be busy working. I'll be fine. When you get back, maybe we could get the old priest to make it official?"

Hermione turned to face him fully. He was still leaned up against the headboard of the bed in all his naked glory, but there was something in his hand. He flipped open the box and held it out toward her.

"I wanted to do this with all the proper pomp, but, while the tattoos may be enough for us, rings are traditional." He shrugged his shoulder. "I saw this in the window of the old antique shop down the way, and, suddenly tradition seemed like a fine idea."

"You want a real wedding?" Hermione licked her lips. "You aren't doing this out of some sort of sense of duty or anything?"

"I want the wedding." He grinned at her. "I want you to be mine in every sense. Even if it does reveal some deep seated Neanderthal longing in my soul. I love you, Hermione. I want the world to know it."

"I'll marry you." She leapt at him and kissed him as they tumbled back into the sheets. He chuckled as she pressed him flat against the bed and grabbed the box from his hand.

The ring was beautiful. White gold formed the main body of the ring. Yellow and rose gold flowers joined the metal work framing an oval amethyst. It was lovely.

"It reminded me of your flowers and of you." He stroked a hand along her arm. "I never expected to find love. I was content with my life, but now there is so much more."

"Put it on me." Hermione held her hand out and smiled as Ambert pushed the ring onto her finger. "I wish I didn't have to go, but I can't put this off."

"Go save the world." He yanked her back down for a kiss before letting her go. "When you get home, we will have our quiet, little ceremony."

She smiled at him and ran her fingers through his dark hair. She'd spent most of her life straddling the divide between their worlds. Marrying Ambert was a simple choice. His being a muggle didn't matter. Love would see them through any trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

Ron looked up at the house where Hermione was staying while she studied potions. The useless little balconies were all overgrown with flowering plants. Runic charms carved into the doors kept the uninvited out. He fought off the urge to rub his bum at the memory of his first encounter with them. He had to admit the place didn't scream evil bastard snake, but he knew Severus Snape had studied with this wizard. Claude Martel was as dark a wizard as they came, but Hermione had finished healer training and moved right on to studying with this bastard.

"I assure you, my parents were very much married." The older wizard glared down at him from the balcony over the door. "You should learn to control your thoughts, Boy. It's unwise to let others pick them from the air as it were."

Ron glared up at the older wizard and clenched his fists against his thighs. Dealing with the old goat was enough to make anyone barmy, but she loved it here. It was like the house elves thing all over again. Hermione was obviously, bloody insane.

"She is quite rational." The old wizard shook his head. "She is also in Italy, so I am not required to tolerate your presence in my home."

"Why is she in Italy?" Ron bounced on his toes and fought the image of Hermione swooning about with some lothario rising in his mind.

"Her business is not yours." The old potions master turned back toward the doors leading into his house.

"How are we supposed to protect her if we don't know where she is?" Ron muttered. "All this nonsense with her eduction has made everything difficult."

He looked up at the old house again and sighed. Hermione would come to her senses soon enough. He knew her after all. Proving she was smarter than any Ravenclaw was a life goal. She was always blathering on and on about the bloody things. He was an auror. It was a respectable career. He didn't need to be the best auror that ever lived. There was enough in his vault to cover expenses. Hermione would be able to pay for luxuries when she finally came to her senses and married him. At least, her big brain would be good for something.

He looked up at the blue sky and considered his other task for the day. If he was lucky, he'd be finished with it and home at the Burrow for dinner. He set off, whistling as he walked toward the muggle sector.

* * *

The children were all handling the treatment well. Hermione walked through the ward and smiled at the Italian healers that were seeing to the patients with her. Last night had been the full moon. None of them had transformed in any way. They hadn't even been irritable. She smiled as one of the children giggled out loud. It was a wonderful sound.

She left the ward with a wide smile and a bounce in her step. She didn't miss the daily grind of healing, but using the skills she had acquired before pursuing her potions mastery was actually enjoyable. She looked over the ward one last time and slipped out through the heavily enchanted doorway into the hallway.

The sudden bustling sound of everyday life was always jarring. The wards were protected with runic carvings and charmed to be tranquil. The wards around each section were altered to suit the patients' needs. She looked down the hall and blinked in the unfiltered sunlight.

"How long does it take this scar removing salve to work fully?" An older wizard invaded her personal space fairly agressively. She took a step back and examined the stress evident in his expression. "Is her face ruined?"

Hermione took a deep breath as the hospital security focused on them. She knew the families had been put through hell in the last month. Many of them were on edge, a few had taken the counseling the hospital offered them. Most hadn't. She waved off security and refocused on the man standing before her.

"I don't know which child is yours." Hermione smiled gently to put the man at ease. "I know the other healers have been keeping you updated, but I've been solely focused on the children. Your English is exceptional, but if you prefer one of the other healers could translate as I am still learning Italian."

"No. I studied at Hogwarts. I don't need their help." The man shook his head. "I want to know what my daughter will be facing now. I want to help her. You came here with all these new medicines and treatments. I was a Hufflepuff not a Ravenclaw. Even the healers here don't know how it all works. How am I to understand?"

"I designed that salve to help remove scars made by dark magic." Hermione met the man's eyes steadily. "It works slowly, but it does work. Some scars disappear completely, others will accept glamours, and then some will remain. Dark magic isn't easy to combat, but your daughter is a survivor. All of those children are. The scars won't make them less attractive. Those children have been quarantined and frightened for the last month. They've supported each other tirelessly. Their loyalty and strength in the face of this horror makes them all beautiful in my eyes."

The man blinked and nodded before grabbing Hermione in a tight hug. She patted his back awkwardly and waited for him to relax. He trembled against her and let her go.

"You have helped us, and I am worried about marks on her skin. I see that she is beautiful, but I worry about others." He rubbed his hands together. "The world is not always a kind place."

"If you see her beauty and support her, she will have confidence when she must face any fools that can't." Hermione patted the man's shoulder. She yanked up her sleeve and showed him the remaining scars on her own skin. "Believe me, I know."

She listened as he continued to thank her, but it was difficult to focus. It had been a long night watching the children for any signs of the change. She nodded as the man started in about the achievements of his daughter. When he shook her hand again she managed an appropriate response in Italian and left the man beaming.

She moved automatically through the hospital toward her hotel. The idea of a few hours sleep was too appealing to pass up. She hated sleeping alone, but she had managed to snag one of Ambert's shirts before leaving France. It helped. In a few days she would be back in his arms, and the shirt would join its brethren in his hamper.

* * *

Harry Potter stared at Draco Malfoy and sighed. He felt some sympathy for the ferret, but the news wasn't good. They were out of time. Using some distant cousin to bring the woman to heel wasn't going to help. He didn't understand why Kings was being so strict and so secretive about this program.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Malfoy." Harry stood and offered his hand to the blond. "I will handle this."

"See that you do." Draco took his hand and then released it quickly. "Mother isn't one for dramatics, but I doubt I've gotten the whole truth from her. Growing up in the household of Cygnus Black was not conducive to open honesty."

"I don't imagine any of the Black homes were." Harry shrugged. "Sirius had nightmares even after Azkaban."

"My father needs to come home. Her rational moments are decreasing. None of us want my mother running about in some manic, wand wielding quest for answers." Malfoy frowned. "Get this done, Potter, and I'll make her release your debt."

Harry nodded and watched as Malfoy stalked down the hall. The blond wizard was clearly concerned for his mother, but Harry was far more worried about Lucius Malfoy. Something was happening to the wizard, and they knew nothing about it. He turned and stalked off toward the protected records. He needed to review the information before hopping over to France.

Lucius Malfoy was still giving him issues after all these bloody years. He pushed his hand through his hair and glared at the sealed door before him. Placing his hand on the nob, he waited for the tingle of magic that would open the door.

The Malfoy file was easy to find. The first few reports were handled by an unspeakable and reminded him of Hermione's papers. He smirked as he read through them. Despite the use of five syllable words, the reports were thorough and descriptive. The first few auror reports were more to the point, but they covered all the bases. The problem arose with Ron's reports.

"It's just one report submitted again and again." Harry put the identical rolls of parchment down on the table. Nausea rose up as he considered the various issues before him. Ron hadn't just been lazy. There would have been some variation if he were just charming the mutton.

No, Ron was being precise. He'd put thought into creating a competent report. The flaw in his plan was assuming that all of them were as bored with the parchment pushing as he was. Harry closed the file. He needed to have Robards look through the whole lot while he checked in on Lucius Malfoy. His boss was not going to be happy.

* * *

Ambert smiled as the wind chimes fluttered in the breeze. He closed his eyes and listened. He could see her in his mind's eye, perched on his desk chair as she hung it from one of the old beams by the windows. She'd gone on and on about enjoying the moment when she'd hung them. He remembered watching her dance as they tintinnabulated. Watching her swing her hips and twirl her skirt up her legs had drawn him in completely.

"Tintinnabulate." He chuckled and opened his eyes. "That's one of her words no question."

He shook his head and focused his attention back on the archaeological journal in his lap. His work wasn't nearly as fascinating with her off in Italy, but he would make due. He glanced toward his desk and smiled at the letters piled on it.

He hadn't been lonely when he ran into her. He hadn't even been looking, but she blazed into his world, brighter than the sun, the moon, and all their starry little friends. He knew what they looked like to outsiders. She was young, and he wasn't. She tended to dress with bohemian flare, while he wore denim or kahki and plain shirts. She was vibrant and beautiful. He faded into the background. None of that mattered to him. Holding her hand as they chatted about their days or some article in the paper brought him peace. Being with her was simple and luxurious. They might be trapped in a land of opposites, but they complimented each other. Together, they were whole.

He couldn't remember feeling that before she wandered into his life. Hermione filled his world with plants and wind chimes. She left earrings on top of his desk and unmentionables hanging in his bathroom. There were brightly colored pillows thrown about. She'd taken his rather spartan flat and turned it into a place of comfort and love.

Spending time with her made him more comfortable in his own skin. They had fallen into an easy relationship once she'd pushed aside her initial reticence. At first, it was easy to live with no promises and no plans. Ambition wasn't his guiding principle, so being in the moment with her seemed natural. Pinpointing the moment he had started wanting forever with her was impossible. He had known she was struggling with their future until recently. He'd even accepted that she would leave, but Hermione had surprised him again. He smirked and set his magazine aside. Her letters would be a better distraction tonight. They were full of inconsequential observations and matters of deeper significance. Her musings about the tradition of marrying on the church steps versus the more modern notion of marrying in the church amused him. Even caught up in her work, part of her was focused on their coming ceremony, their marriage.

An odd screeching and repetitive sound dragged his attention away from their future. He turned toward the clattering sound as one of her strange, metal objects that lay scattered amongst the spider plants, ivy, and ferns whirred to life. He took two steps toward it when the pain hit. Dropping to his knees, he clutched at his gut. He panted and pressed his head against the bare floor.

Dragging hand along the boards, he clutched at his chest. The blood was pounding through his veins, raising an absolute tempest in his head. He ground his teeth and tried to focus on something, on anything to get his mind away from the pain. Images of her smiling up at him from their pillow strewn bed flashed through his mind. The pain ripped at him and tried to drag him away. Sweat trickled along his skin as he Forced his mind into the memory of her silken, scar riddled skin. He imagined wrapping the sheet around them to protect him from the pain, and he felt something in him ease.

"Hermione." Images of her danced across his mind, but the pain was breaking his concentration. He tried to hold onto her, but darkness pulled him into the blissful unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

Narcissa sighed and waited as the healers and the unspeakable talked a few feet away from her. They'd used a spell to insure their privacy, but she could still read their body language. There was no good news.

Sitting in this utilitarian, scentless Hall was disturbing to her. The ward was not made to be comfortable. Unauthorized magic was banned. Treating the victims of dark magic didn't lend itself to the presence of other forms. She knew all the rules, but was some muggle painting to brighten the walls too much to ask.

Draco fidgeted beside her. She glanced over at him. His eyes were trained on the healers.

"They don't know what to do." Draco hissed under his breath. "This is ridiculous. It's been two days. They won't tell us anything."

"Your father is a strong wizard." She patted her son's hand. "We have to believe that magic will see him through this."

"We don't even know what this is." Draco clenched his fist on his thigh. "Why can't we see him?"

"I know as much as you do, my dragon." She sighed. "I'm sure they will tell us something soon."

She ignored Draco's expression of disbelief. Two days did seem a bit excessive, but she knew they had no power or influence on which to draw. Their money was all well and good, but it didn't buy them back what had been lost.

"Potter just tossed him at the healers and ran out of here." Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd like to know where he went in such a hurry."

Narcissa took a deep breath and ignored her son as he continued to quietly complain about Harry Potter, the government, and the general idiocy of the hospital staff. She was sure it made him feel better, but it served no purpose.

* * *

"They all responded well." Hermione plunked down her notes on the table and smiled at Claude. "I know there will be follow ups and more testing, but I'm hopeful."

"Your potion will work." Claude cupped her shoulder and smiled. "Your legend will grow. Remember to come and see me, my girl. An old man gets lonely."

"I'm staying in town. I'd like to continue working with you, if you can stand my cheerful warbling." She smiled at the smirk on his face.

"I can cast a proper silencing charm. Working with you would be a pleasure for this old man. I will even don some muggle clothes and meet your young man for some wine." Claude chuckled. "Your children will be magical. When you tell him, bring him here. I have plenty of dusty old things he can appreciate. Now, off with you. Young love requires a great deal of tending as I recall."

Hermione blushed and hugged him. She felt his arms tighten around her even as he blustered and complained about her overwhelming need to shower him with unnecessary affection. He pushed back from her, but held her hand gently.

"You have proven yourself, earned your mastery. I am proud of you." Claude squeezed her fingers with his own. "I went to that witless cousin of mine. I've gained his permission to adopt you. I have no heirs. I never much cared for children, but I would love you to be my daughter."

Hermione swallowed and looked into his eyes. The sincerity of his words was displayed on his face. She nodded.

"I'd love to be your family." She licked her lips. "What do we need to do?"

"I've already done it." He shrugged as he let her fingers go. "I knew you would say yes, but I didn't want to seem too presumptuous. Now, go. Spend a few days with that man of yours. Enjoy your youth. You can shower me with proper filial affection later. I won't even hex you for it."

Hermione darted forward and kissed his cheek before running out the door with a laugh. She'd never imagined staying in this little town when she'd started studying here, but her life was here now. All the things she needed thrived here.

She all but danced down the cobbled street, knowing Ambert was waiting for her.

Opening the door with the wave of her hand she stepped into the flat and froze. The entry was empty. The place smelled of cleansers and nothing else. She took two steps in and Harry stepped into her line of sight.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" She glanced into the room past her friend. "What happened here?"

"Why don't you tell me, Hermione?" Harry crosses his arms over his chest.

"I've just come home from Italy. There was a werewolf attack. They approved the use of my potion. I was there for the last month. My port key here arrived less than an hour ago." She blinked and focused on his posture. "What happened to my home?"

"You we're living here?" Harry waved his hand around.

"So, Ambert is a muggle. I didn't expect you to have a problem with him." She glared at Harry. "Where is he? Where is my fiancé?"

"Fiancé? Ambert?" Harry spun around. "You've been living with Lucius bloody Malfoy."

Hermione blinked and stood perfectly still.

"No. Ambert Sheridan is a muggle man. There is no magic in him. He has a record collection and degrees from muggle universities." Hermione swallowed. "I know there are some similarities, but he's got different color eyes and hair. His skin is darker. He smiles and laughs. They can't be the same man. You're wrong."

"I'm not." Harry took a step towards her, but her magic shoved him back. She felt the power in her body quake and seek an outlet.

"He loves me. Lucius Malfoy does not." Hermione forced her magic back under control. "They are not the same man. Why would Malfoy do such a thing? He wouldn't. He was sentenced to prison. He's in Azkaban. Ambert just looks a bit like him around the edges."

"Hermione, stop." Harry grabbed her shoulders. "This is complicated. The Ministry offered some of the convicted death eaters a shorter sentence if they participated in a rehabilitation program. I don't know all the details, but he didn't know he was Lucius Malfoy."

"He had no magic." She stared up into Harry's eyes. "I checked. He looked so much like Malfoy that I scanned him for magic and found none. That isn't possible. There would need to be a suppression device. You're wrong. You have to be wrong."

"I'm sorry, Hermione." Harry tried to pull her in for a hug, but she pulled away from him. She stalked around the now empty rooms as he trailed behind her going on and on about how sorry he was. There was nothing left.

"You have to come with me, now." Harry looked down when she focused on him again. "There is something wrong with Malfoy. You've been with him. The unspeakable and the healers need information."

"You want me to come with you?" Hermione shook her head. "My life is gone, and you want me to what? Go back to being your faithful sidekick?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione." Harry fidgeted before her. "You don't have a choice. If you don't come with me, they'll send a retrieval squad."

"This is France. You have no authority here." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Your squad might not like their welcome."

"The man you love is hurting." Harry took a step closer to her. "Are you really going to let him suffer?"

Hermione spun away from Harry. He knew her too well, knew she was going to go. She took a deep breath.

"What is wrong with him?" She turned back to face Harry.

"I don't know." She could see he was lying. "The team working on him need you because of some bond. I don't understand the problem."

"Fine. I assume you have a port key." She held her hand out. "Let's go.

* * *

Reginald Burke had been an unspeakable for most of his eighty five years. He'd seen a great deal in that time and had the sense to stay well clear of Riddle and his devotees. As he watched the witch approaching them, he wished he'd had the sense to stay clear of this program.

He'd heard she was powerful and dangerous, but this witch was more than that. He could sense her magic as it whirled around her. Hermione Granger had been cast as a lowly side kick in the tale of the last Great War, but she was clearly much more. Potter was chasing behind her like a child, chanting and panting as he tried to get her attention. She was not listening to him.

Her step faltered when she saw the Malfoys, but she paused and spoke quietly to the pair. The trio ignored Potter as they exchanged information. She narrowed her eyes when the auror tried to take control of the situation. She was magnificent.

She approached their group and tore down the spells securing their privacy with a casual wave of her hand. When the healers started squawking about her behavior, one delicate hand planted itself on her hip. Potter stepped back and shook his head.

"My presence was requested rather forcefully. If you want me to cooperate with you in any way, you will treat the patient's wife and son with respect." She locked eyes with each of them. "I think it would be best if we adjourned this little tête-à-tête to a room with chairs and a table."

"We just need you to answer some questions." One of the older healers looked her up and down. "You couldn't possibly understand the scope of the situation."

"You might be surprised at the scope of what I understand." She glanced back at Potter. "Find a room for us, will you?"

* * *

Draco settled into a comfortable chair next to his mother. The grumbling healers were glaring at Granger, but the witch didn't acknowledge any of it. She had included them with no hesitation. The healers had ignored them before she'd swept in. They'd been treated as unfortunate furniture.

The healers continued treating them as non entities. It was odd to be ignored, but Granger kept the whole lot focused on her with small shows of power. Opening doors with simple turns of her wrist wasn't necessary, but showing her strength so casually kept everyone off balance. The unspeakable tracked her every move, but made no complaint as she took everything in hand.

"Thank you, Harry." Granger smiled at the wizard but the expression seemed threatening in some way. "Please, wait outside."

"He's a prisoner, Hermione." Potter crossed his arms over his chest. "That makes treatment the Ministry's concern. You need to answer their questions, or I will have to take you in."

"Really, Harry?" She tilted her head. "You'll take me in?"

"I will. I have a job to do." Harry looked away from her. "I brought Ron in. I'll do the same with you."

"Auror Potter, you might want to reconsider making threats." The unspeakable managed to look stern despite the odd glamour disguising him. "I imagine she will be more helpful without your threats."

"You don't need to be privy to the patient's medical information." Granger took a deep breath.

"You do?" Potter shook his head.

"I'm a healer, Harry." She sighed. "My personal issues will not keep me from doing what is best for him."

Draco watched as the Gryfs spoke to each other in a strange mix of eye rolls and facial expressions before Potter tossed up his hands and left the room. Granger examined the back of the door for a moment, her distress obvious in her very stillness.

"We don't have time for all this drama." One of the older healers lightly slapped the table. "The death eater isn't our only patient."

"The death eater?" Hermione turned toward the healer.

"There's no denying what that man did." The healer met her gaze steadily.

"There is no denying that Saint Mungo's staff performed sterilizations on Muggle born witches and wizards that were deemed useful during the war. The experimental medical treatments that this facility practiced are the stuff of nightmares." Granger took a deep breath. "Did you comfort yourself with false platitudes about having no choice? Did you stand up to even one round or cruciatus? Did you take up a wand against the insanity?"

"My family would have suffered." The man's gaze slid to the floor.

"You went along. You survived. You were lucky enough in your professional choice to be deemed too useful to prosecute. Do not sit in judgement of any of us. We were on the frontlines of this war. Draco Malfoy and I were children. We were pawns, but he did more to save me than he ever did to harm me. Lord and Lady Malfoy were caught up in the madness for decades. She protected Harry. She did it despite the risk to her own life. Riddle would not have been quick about ending her if she had been caught." Granger looked at each healer in the face. "Their family did suffer. They didn't have the luxury of blaming someone else for their decisions. That you were allowed to do so was a travesty."

Draco found himself watching her in the stunned silence. He knew all the others were as well. He'd never in his life expected her to defend him.

* * *

Claude stared at his cousin as the man stammered about Harry Potter abducting the newest member of the Martel family. The tea had gone cold with all the fool's fits and starts. He sighed and pushed his cup away.

"She will be fine. My daughter is perfectly capable of defending herself." Claude smirked. "When she returns, we shall punish them for their temerity."

"There aren't many of us left. We can't go to war with all of Britain." The wizard sipped his tea and grimaced.

"There is no need to war with anyone. Hermione is Severus' heir as well as my own." Claude grinned. "I will simply invoke the penalties on our patents."

"With no warning?" His cousin's eyes flared wide. "For the whole country?"

"Perhaps." Claude shrugged. "The patents are controlled and enforced by the ICW. Their ministry doesn't have the funds to meet a week's worth of penalties."

"You would bring a country to its knees?" His cousin blinked.

"I have one child. That country killed my son." He looked out the window and watched the sun dance along the riots of colorful flowers. "I will not let them harm my daughter."

* * *

Hermione had answered all their questions without looking up at the Malfoys. Glancing toward them, she blushed. Some of the questions had been intrusive.

"None of your answers help us." The head healer glared at her.

"My husband and her fiancé are different men." Narcissa tapped the table. "I think I should have been told that the Ministry may have killed my husband in some misguided attempt to educate him."

"Father isn't dead." Draco looked at his mother before glaring at the unspeakable. "You did the spell. Just undo it. It can't be that complicated."

"They're trying to determine if my magic is interfering with the spell or if Ronald Weasley managed to damage it, but the problem probably runs deeper. The questions these fools asked..." Hermione took a deep breath and looked directly at Draco. "Your father's core is damaged. I've worked with similar cases."

"Where did you work with these patients?" One of the younger wizards examined her. "You certainly didn't train here."

"I studied in Japan, at the Osorezan Institute." Hermione smiled at the wizard's taken aback expression. "I earned my mastery in healing there before attaining my potions mastery in France."

"They accepted you in Japan?" Another healer looked at her appraisingly. "They haven't taken in an apprentice from Europe in fifty years."

"Why haven't you come to work here? There are so many people that you could help." The only female healer looked at her. "We need healers so badly."

"I am helping in the way best suited to my skills. I love research. Patient care does not suit me." Hermione smiled at the witch. "I can devise treatments and take on complicated cases without hexing anyone."

"You have a duty..." The witch gestured toward the door.

"To ease suffering?" Hermione tilted her head and examined the other witch. "You were still studying during the war. I am guessing you studied in Canada. Your family protected you. I didn't have that luxury. We all deal with our demons in our own ways."

"Can you save my father?" Draco slid his hand along the dark wood toward her.

"I would need to see his charts and diagrams of any active spells working on him. I might be able to design a treatment then, but I can not be the one to cure him. My personal feelings might impact the way my magic acted on him." She looked down at her hands and the ring still shining there. "I have a friend in Japan. I will ask him to come and help with the case, so there is no doubt that Lord Malfoy receives the best treatment."

"I respect your sense of honor." Narcissa Malfoy looked directly at her. "I can do nothing to help him at all. I know this is a lot to ask, but, please, look over the files and see if there is anything that might improve his situation until your friend can take over his care."

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. The pain of it all would help to remind her that Ambert was the unspeakable's construct. Her fiancé was nothing more than a quirk of spellwork.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione looked at Lucius Malfoy's life line. The glowing luminescent white line floated in the air waiting for her to tune it, but she was examining the fork near one end. There was a color shift in the white of the emerging line. She pursed her lips and stared at it.

"His core is split." She rubbed the back of her neck. "The magical signatures don't match."

"I concur." The unspeakable stared at the line before him.

"Good for you." Hermione rolled her eyes as she twirled her wand and vivid colors flooded through Lucius' line. The second line had a few flashes of pastel color until the end where it glowed with bright color. Deep breathing wasn't helping her as she examined the colors on Lucius Malfoy's line. Every spell he'd ever come into contact with danced in a spectrum before her. She glanced at Ambert's short line and swallowed down the nausea of the moment.

"I've never seen anything like that." One of the younger healers that had taken to standing along the wall watching her work stepped closer. "What are all the colors?"

"This is every spell he's ever encountered." Hermione glanced down the line toward the beginning and twisted her wand. The line changed until only a buttery yellow glow was seen. "He was born at Malfoy Manor, so the first spell that he encountered was built into the land itself. His family wards accepted him. She pointed to the yellow at the beginning of his line. It shows up again every time he returned to his home after an absence."

"Isn't that intrusive?" The healer looked over at her. "This spell could be used in the courts."

"No, it can't." Hermione looked back to the line. "This spell only works for healers that have taken a vow and gone through a very demanding rite. We are bound to protect our patients by another set of oaths and another rite. This information is mine alone. None of you will be able to recall the line in detail once I dismiss it. I can not be compelled to share the information. My patient is safe."

"What if you were imperiused?" The unspeakable tilted his head.

"You're welcome to try." Hermione grinned at the obscured face. "I've been tested by the best. They don't allow you to undergo the rites if you are vulnerable."

"I didn't think their sworn healers left." He shifted slightly.

"Most don't. Most choose a different path from mine." Hermione shrugged. "I won't be bound to a place or a cause."

"A rogue healer? With your abilities?" The unspeakable stepped back. "Many would see you as a threat."

"Because I'm battle hardened? I'm a well honed weapon?" Hermione chuckled, low and melodic. "That's why my master did trust me. I will not falter."

The unspeakable nodded and looked away from her. She didn't need to see the man's features clearly to sense his guilt. Turning back to the lines, she sighed.

"It should be possible to graft the new line back into the original." Hermione sighed. "How many other victims of this nonsense are there?"

"I am not at liberty to say." The unspeakable moved further from her. "This may be an anomaly. The other participants are being checked."

Hermione nodded her head, but she knew the unspeakable was lying. Whatever the Ministry's goals in this, they didn't care about the well being of Lucius Malfoy and his brethren. She looked down at the table's smooth surface and considered the irony that she did.

* * *

Narcissa frowned as she looked over the legal documents that the Ministry wanted her to sign. Draco sat beside her and patted her hand. It was such a little thing, but it helped her feel a tiny bit less overwhelmed.

"It would seem Granger anticipated some difficulties arising with our government." Draco stared at some point on the wall. "There is a wizard from France here to help us navigate through this quagmire. Do you want to accept the assistance?"

Narcissa took a deep breath. Accepting help from Granger didn't come with the usual strings. The witch didn't deal with the world the Slytherin way. No, the usual strings were not involved, but there would always be a sense of something owed.

"We simply don't have a choice." Narcissa glanced towards her son. "She's already doing more for us than we can ever repay. We shall have to live with it."

Draco nodded and left her to her thoughts again. She really didn't care for them. She didn't want to imagine his other life. She didn't want to see the pain so carefully banked in Granger's eyes.

Draco brought the wizard in. He did not gawk at the architectural details or look at the various works of art. His clothing was obviously bespoke. Narcissa took a deep breath and wondered how Granger had managed to find and acquire such a wizard's services.

"I am Adrien Martel. My cousin is rather put out with your government and requested my help. He is filing charges with the ICW. I may be the head of our House, but he is the one with the power." The man shrugged and smiled lightly. "His daughter was coerced into a visit. One can not do that to a Martel."

"I know of your family, but I do not understand why you are here." Narcissa moved her hand to invite the man to sit. "I thought Hermione Granger sent you."

"She did. Hermione Granger Martel is my cousin's daughter." The man smirked. "You English have always been so concerned with blood, but we see it differently in France." He leaned back in his chair. "She proved her purity by earning a mastery. Claude filed the adoption papers as soon as she succeeded. She is a true treasure for our family to protect."

Narcissa blinked, but managed to nod her head. Hermione Granger Martel was an acknowledged member of a pure blood house. Claude Martel was one of the most terrifying wizards alive. He'd been close with Grindelwald and strong enough to escape being pulled into that wizard's insanity. He'd openly defied Dumbledore and Riddle.

"We Martels are a quiet family for the most part. We live comfortably and happily, but we have not survived this long without learning a thing or two." The wizard's smile was small and tight. "Your government will be paying badly for its offenses against us."

"What can my family do to help?" Narcissa nodded and smiled at him genuinely.

* * *

Asa Yamato sighed as he stepped into the hospital. He didn't care for travel, but Hermione had called on him. For his favorite pupil, he could tolerate the indignity of it all.

He watched as people bustled around him with an odd frantic quality. It seemed they wanted to appear busy because there weren't enough serious patients to account for the activity. He took a deep breath as a man in healers' robes headed toward him.

"Master Yamato, we heard you were on your way here." The man moved through the crowd with no regard for other people.

"Yes, a favor was asked of me." Asa bent slightly at the waist and ignored the man's awkward bluster. "Where is Hermione Granger?"

"She is upstairs. I'll be happy to take you to her." The obsequious man smiled at him. "Perhaps, we can squeeze in a brief tour of our fine establishment along the way."

Asa resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This facility was a building, perhaps it was impressive to those that had never stood on ground meant for healing. His own buildings on Mount Osore were similar enough, but the healing power flowed through them. One didn't have to force the power to their will. It wanted to help. The man before him simply did not know.

Asa sighed. He had hoped being brusk would make the man back off, but this wizard had an obvious agenda. It was familiar enough. They always wanted to lure him away from his home.

"I am here at Master Granger's behest. Leaving my place at Osorezan is not easy for me, but, to help her, I must." Asa glanced around the room. "Please, take me to her."


End file.
